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 | | From: | JPF | | Subject: | Buried Treasure | | Date: | Mon, 22 Nov 2004 00:39:05 GMT |
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 | "A Buried Treasure" by Bob Perks
She is your neighbor. She lives in that house down the street where the
grass gets a little tall in the summer. The sidewalks remain covered in
snow a little longer than most of the homes in your area. During your
early morning drive you'll see her outside in her housecoat and slippers
sweeping the porch. Even on a warm summer day she wears a heavy sweater.
Every so often you see her walking down the street with her fold-up push
cart heading toward the grocery store. For the most part she is invisible
to the world. She has become a part of the scenery. She goes about her
daily routines asking for nothing from the world. And the world responds
by doing nothing for her. The truth is she could die tomorrow and you most
likely wouldn't even miss her.
"They're selling that old house down the street. You know, where that old
lady lived."
"I saw a sign at the grocery store. They're having a tag sale. God, I bet
there's some great old stuff in there. Let's make a point to go Saturday.
We'll get there early for some real bargains."
By the end of that Saturday, when the last piece of her life has been
sold, she will be but a memory for someone. Her worth to whatever family
members laid claim to her property, will be in dollars and cents. She was
just passing through this life, biding her time.
"How sad," you say to yourself. How sad indeed. Sad that you never got to
know her.
If you had taken the time to say "hello" one day you would have been
blessed.
Perhaps walking the down the street one early summer's eve you would have
seen her sitting on the old oak rocking chair you got at a bargain price
the day they auctioned off her life. That chair was hand made by her
Father. He came to America with the skill of a craftsman and raised her
and her seven siblings with his bare hands. Her Momma sat in that chair
and breast fed every one of them. She made their clothes, baked bread
everyday and tended to a large garden that they depended on for fresh
vegetables.
This mysterious old lady was married once for what would have been a
lifetime for most of us. Her husband died years ago, but not before he
paid the last payment on the home you rummaged through on Saturday.
Children? They had seven kids and raised them on hand-me-downs and fresh
garden vegetables.Two died at an early age, one in a car accident when he
was just a teen. The others went on to college and scattered across the
U.S. in search of big dollars, big homes and little respect for who gave
them life and everything they had today.
Except for a few photographs that they split among themselves as tokens of
the "good old days" they each received their portion of the estate and
went on with their lives. Some where in her possessions they found an
envelope filled with cash. On it was written the words, "I couldn't spend
your money." For they would send her checks to pay someone to cut the
grass and shovel the sidewalk.
She did it herself.
She had no other living relatives and very few friends to visit her. The
ones still around were tucked away in nursing homes she couldn't get to
visit.
Yes, how sad it is that you didn't take the time to say hello. You would
have met an honest to goodness Angel here on earth.
I am guilty, too. You see, I wouldn't have met her either except one day
while driving past her house I blew a tire and pulled by the side of the
road.
While struggling with the spare, she came out and offered me a fresh glass
of homemade iced tea. I sat on her steps as she rocked in that chair and
told me a lifetime of stories. She talked so long she apologized for she
rarely got visitors. I assured her that she need not apologize at all. I
was the one who was sorry that I had never stopped by sooner.
"You are an angel," I told her.
In her sweet, gentle voice she said, " We are each other's angels. We meet
when it is time."
She died the other day and I sat on her front porch and watched her life
fall apart.
The neighbors got some real bargains that day. But I found a treasure.
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